Latest musings
Beneath the trees
Beside the whispering well.
There lives a maid
An old, old maid
Of whom my tale will tell.
In times gone by,
In great supply,
Her life was strong and clear.
Her wisdom shared,
As others cared,
She lived a life sincere .
Then day by day
The curse, they say,
Insidious appeared.
So bit by bit,
As favour quit,
From view she disappeared.
Now all alone
She sits unknown
A trace of times gone by.
To be again
She waits in vain
And heaves a final sigh .
This tale I tell,
Please heed me well,
And listen as you will.
The sad maid thence
Is common sense,
She’s waiting for you still .
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